


take the gun (and count to three)

by plinys



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Earth-2, F/F, Femslash February, Five Times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 16:59:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17729198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plinys/pseuds/plinys
Summary: “I prefer the name Black Siren.”“Overwatch."[the story of earth-2 laurel & earth-2 felicity]





	take the gun (and count to three)

**Author's Note:**

> i missed a few days of femslash feb cause ive been feeling a bit "meh" but im back at it now!

1

It’s not fate.

Or anything romantic.

No love at first sight or anything like that.

It’s a robbery.

Breaking and entering.

A scream so loud that it shatters the security cameras.

And an innocent IT Tech hiding beneath her desk.

Laurel spares a brief moment to consider her almost  _ cute  _ before she tugs the woman out from her hiding place. The soft pink sweater, the wide eyed almost innocent look behind the frames of her glasses, the soft part of pink lips.

Oh how wouldn’t she love to tear her apart.

Nobody has the right to look that innocent in this cruel of a world.

Instead, she just speaks in a voice that is sugary sweet as it mocks her, pushing the cute little IT girl into a desk chair, “Won’t you be a doll a get me the account numbers of  _ all _ Queen Consolidated board members?”

  
  
  


2

She doesn’t think much of the girl that got her the information.

Certainly never expects to hear from her again. 

But two days later she’s sitting in the middle of Laurel’s shitty apartment, dressed in a white leather jacket, with a laptop- Laurel’s laptop - perched on her knees. 

“You should make your wifi password harder, Dinah, if you don’t want people to hack you,” she says, by way of getting.

A look that can only be classified as  _ vicious  _ on her face when she finally looks away from the screen to meet Laurel’s eyes.

She had underestimated this woman. 

“I prefer the name Black Siren.” 

“Overwatch,” the woman replies, sticking out her hand. 

And oh - Laurel has heard of  _ Overwatch _ .

The daughter of the Calculator, a rather infamous hacker in her own right. 

“But friends call me Felicity.”

Friends.

They’ve only just met, properly, for the second time, but Laurel can tell just looking at her that  _ friends  _ is exactly what they’re going to be. 

“Why are you playing house at Queen Consolidated,  _ Felicity _ .” 

She shrugs, eye flicking back down to the screen in front of her, “A girl has to pay her bills somehow.” 

  
  
  


3

It’s good.

They work together, they split the profits.

They tell themselves that they won’t become a team.

Because Laurel doesn’t do teams.

Because Felicity doesn’t do commitment. 

And things like this never end pretty.

But taking down Queen Consolidated is at lot easier with someone on the inside, and as they always say, the enemy of your enemy is your friend. Or something like that. 

They work together, take down their enemies with a double sided ruthlessness. 

Felicity illuminated by the light of her various screens, Laurel washing blood off her hand for the third time this week - it works for them. 

In a way that Laurel swears wouldn’t work for anyone else. 

Laurel fucks her on top of their  _ winnings _ , paperwork, proof of a dirty trail, not that Laurel needed  _ proof  _ to know which hands were dirty.

She fucks Felicity until they both forget why they’re here.

And it’s good.

  
  
  


4

It’s not romance.

Not really.

But it’s comfortable and familiar.

It’s a bottle of wine in Felicity’s hand, and something like a smile on her lips, as she says, “Now it’s my turn to pick who we’re going after.”

  
  
  


5

But all good things end.

Inevitably.

Something that Laurel should have learned long ago.

She wasn’t made for happiness. Wasn’t destined for a happily ever after. She had known since the beginning that that was how this would end. Had warned herself not to get attached. But there had been a small part of her that had always lingered too long the morning after wondering  _ what if  _ and  _ why not _ .

A question she will never know the answer to now.

A question she’s not certain that she even ever wanted the answer to. 

One day Felicity is there, celebrating their latest victory, a bottle of wine between them, a kiss that’s too sweet against Laurel’s lips, clothes abandoned in their eagerness to  _ celebrate properly _ .

And the next, she is gone.

As if he was never there at all.

As if Felicity were nothing more than a dream Laure had made up.

Any trace of her existence in this space that they sort of shared is gone.

Gone, at least, is better than dead.

She tries to find comfort in that.

The only piece of evidence that Felicity was there at all is a pink post it note on Laurel’s refrigerator that says -  _ Change your wifi password. _

She crumples up the note without hesitation, tries to ignore the ache in her chest, as she picks up her phone and dials a number that she knows won’t answer, but she’s sure Felicity will get the message regardless. 

There’s so many things that she wants to say  _ come back  _ at the tip of her tongue, but instead, she says words that she doesn’t mean, vicious and cutting, meant to hurt, though she’s not sure which one of them she’s hurting, ending it with a promise to herself - “If I ever see you again, I’ll kill you.”

  
  


+1

This Felicity is not  _ her  _ Felicity.

She’s different in so many ways.

But the same in others.

She can still remember in that abandoned warehouse, how Felicity had turned to torture, and for a second Laurel remembered the woman that had left her behind with a glance backwards.

It had been familiar then.

Just as it is familiar now. 

They’re at a bar, not a messy apartment, but there’s is a bottle of wine between them and a smile and there’s something so familiar about it that a part of Laurel aches. So much so that she has to turn away from this Felicity and remind her once again that they’re  _ not friends _ .

The words a woman with this very face once told to her too many times to count. 

Maybe if she says them enough, she’ll finally believe them. 

But then Felicity smiles at her and insists that her only ulterior motive is getting to know Laurel better and oh - 

It’s like the first time all over again. 

“You don’t want to get to know me. You won’t like what you see.”

“Try me.”

 


End file.
